Adieu
by Beckers
Summary: The aftermath of some tragic news delivered by William Reed.
1. 1

The following is a "Tales of the South Seas" fiction and does not wish to infringe on any copyright holders of said television series. No profit is being made by the distribution of this on-line fiction. "Adieu" was written for entertainment purposes only.

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Synopsis: The aftermath of some tragic news delivered by William Reed.

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Adieu

by 

Beckers

****

Twilight shaded the sky. Only a small shard of iridescent light traced the horizon as the sun gradually, bit by bit, sank into the ocean bordering their slice of South Seas paradise. 

"He should not be out there like that, Mauriri." Lianni said, clearing the dishes on she and her husband's deck table. The attractive native woman looked beyond into the distance, scrutinizing the man sitting on the beach. He was watching the waves but not truly seeing them. After supper David Grief had taken a bottle of spirits, procured from his own pants pocket, and fixed his eyes on it for a long while. From his other pocket he pulled a half sheet of folded white paper. He glanced at it once, an odd expression coming over his face, and stuffed it back in. Preoccupied, he thanked Lianni for the wonderful meal. David appeared so thoughtful and sad she wanted to say something but just did not have the words that could make it better. She watched as he turned and shuffled off the deck. "He did not bring his jacket." Lianni persisted, "At least take him a blanket; something to wrap around his shoulders. The breeze off the water is making it cold."

Mauriri nodded, understanding his wife's unspoken plea. She wanted him to talk with David. He really was the only person who could get through to him at a time like this. Mauriri recognized his friend's mood; the slumped shoulders and hung head. David Grief was not feeling the cold, as Lianni had suggested. Right now he was consumed by deep contemplation, melancholy and probably, more than anything else, a sense of substantial responsibility and heartache. With a sympathetic sigh, Mauriri kissed Lianni quickly on the side of her head then pulled a coverlet from the back of a wicker chair. He preceded forward, his sandaled feet sinking deep into the white sand as he made a beeline to his partner.

When he reached Grief, Mauriri carefully dropped the blanket over his friend's shoulders. He was not entirely surprised to receive no reaction. David was already a quarter way through his bottle of brandy. Mauriri sat beside him and sifted sand through his fingers. He did not say a word, waiting for the other man to speak.

Grief was staring down at the label on the bottle, "Napoleon, eighteen sixty five." he murmured after a few moments, "Isabelle said it travels well." He reflected and took another swallow. "She was right." 

Mauriri nodded but remained silent.

"I saw William Reed off yesterday. Before we parted he told me I was a _good_ man." Grief snorted a sarcastic laugh, "Can you imagine _me _being a good man?" 

"You are, David." Mauriri said.

"Good men don't take advantage of the people they love. I took advantage of you, Mo. I took advantage of Lavinia and Isabelle too …" Grief fought the urge to punch his fist into the sand, "Why? Because I'm selfish bastard. I just don't give a damn."

"What happened between us was long ago, David. Lavinia has always understood what you are and the way you live your life. And Isabelle …" He paused, knowing the pain a wrong word might cause his slightly inebriated friend, "You _didn't_ know. None of us knew."

"Ignorance is a very weak excuse, Mo!" Grief barked with more venom than intended, "I was lazy and she was ... ambitious. I knew Isabelle wasn't going to wait around."

"She knew the risks. We all do."

"I didn't give her a choice."

"Yes you did, David."

It may have been easier if they had merely received a letter, Mauriri pondered, or if William Reed hadn't been so unwavering in his quest to tell them the _whole_ wretched story. But Isabelle's brother felt he owed it to he and David. They were, after all, Isabelle's closest "family". Mauriri closed his eyes a moment, recalling when Reed used that word. Partners, yes. Friends, yes. _Family_? Besides William, a brother she seldom saw, who else did Isabelle have?

Mauriri really hadn't come to realized how special Miss Reed was, how much a part of the islands she had become, until they heard the news. At the bar he and the others, including Lavinia, Clare, Colin and David had settled back to reflect on Isabelle's accomplishments and their camaraderie. 

The woman's good business sense had _The Rattler _turning a profit. It was possibly the first real income earned since the _Windham_ _Run_ two years ago, and that had been more of a race than actual commerce. Both he and David were thrilled to see their cut when she had presented the books to them last month. Mauriri added money to an account at a mainland bank, a small nest egg for Tahnee and Tevaki. He wanted his children well educated, prepared to face the world outside of their home island. David on the other hand, having no wife or children to consider, made a few significant upgrades to his much cherished motorcycle. It had never run quite as well as it should after he crashed it into a fruit stand a few months previously.

"Isabelle bought new Bibles for the church." Colin said reflectively, during the gathering at Lavinia's beachside tavern. "It was about four months ago. I told her I would make mention of her generosity in our church bulletin, thought it might bring her a bit more prestige if others knew, but she declined." His spectacles fogged ever so slightly as he looked down into the glass he held, "Isabelle said she didn't want anyone to know. It was between us … and God." Colin smiled mildly but his voice was hoarse with emotion, "Then she winked at me …"

Clare placed a hand on his shoulder, responsive to her friend's sentiment, but addressed everyone as she spoke. "Do you remember the advertisement placed in our island newspaper a few weeks ago? The one hundred dollar reward for the return of that little native girl who went missing?"

"Isabelle?" Lavinia asked, behind the bar, fastidiously drying a tumbler. She appeared only slightly surprised.

Clare nodded. "When the girl was found Isabelle gave money to me and I, or rather the newspaper, paid those responsible for bringing her back to her parents."

"Always a lady full of surprises." Mauriri chuckled mildly in fond recollection. He had joined the conversation, telling all of Isabelle's incarceration of a couple years ago, how she had managed to hold on bravely until he and David could rescue her from a detestable and brutal island prison. 

However, it wasn't until later, as he lay in bed with his loving wife, that Mauriri realized David Grief had never said a word the entire night. He took it all in but was merely quietly reflective as the rest of his friends worked through their sorrow.

****

"Isabelle was a high-quality woman, David, but she wasn't perfect. She had faults. She could have _waited_ for us but she didn't. You cannot blame yourself."

"The hell I can't. I baited her, Mauriri. I _dared_ her to go alone."

The sun had set over an hour ago but still they sat on the sand, talking. The only object alighting the beach now was the full moon above them.

Lianni poked her head out once from her hut-home, making certain all was well, but could see she was not needed. Mauriri had matters well in hand. The lady of the house quietly called her goodnight to husband and friend and went to bed.

'Captain Grief, you are so stubborn.' Mauriri thought and was quietly amused by an irony. This was yet another trait David and Isabelle shared. They both had tempers too. As full of merit as she was, Isabelle could be a hellcat when provoked, superficially selfish at times, and even greedy. Yes, a lot more like David than either of them were willing to admit. 

However, this _knowing _sometimes made Mauriri anxious. He had been certain that one day Captain Grief would see all these similarities, and many of the other favorable components that encompassed Isabelle Reed, and he would leave the South Seas with her on _The Rattler_, never to be seen again. A foolish notion, to be sure, because Isabelle loved it here, as did David, but if she ever gave him reason to change his mind … would he cave? Just how close had the two of them become? After all, why did Isabelle remain when, it seemed, Captain Grief had already explained she was _not_ the lady for him? 

Of course, that had been over a year ago, before Isabelle had helped him out of a tight corner, when it seemed Captain Grief was ready to lose his treasured ship forever. Isabelle was also instrumental in bringing he and David back together when it appeared their partnership was doomed. Could things have changed between she and David? Had Mauriri somehow missed it? In spite of everything, physical beauty aside, underneath it all the lovely Miss Reed was a good, resilient woman; a marvelous lady as a matter of fact, and that facade of self-interest was present only to hide a secretly generous soul. Something they had all eventually discovered -- but too late. Perhaps David had seen it all before any of them and that's why he saved her, all those months ago, when the rest thought prison the best place for the common thief she embodied.

"Did you see William Reed's eyes when he talked to us?"

"Reed does not blame you or any of us, David. He knew where Isabelle had been, the business venture she was on before she came to he and Alea's island. He also knows how lucky they are, not being contaminated when Isabelle found herself ill. She recognized the signs before it was too late for them. By not ignoring what she knew was the truth she saved a lot of people, David."

"Someone should have been there to save _her_." Grief whispered, taking another swallow of brandy. "_I_ should have been there."

**** 

((continue))


	2. 2

**** 

It was to be a simple delivery to Paltogra, a small island just on the outskirts of Matazangi. They were told a small flu epidemic had broken out and a vaccine, delivered to Matavai, needed to be sailed over "as soon as it's convenient" but a bonus would be given to the ship which could make the run in two days. Anyone with transport could do the job but _The Royal Navy _requested _The Rattler, _knowing Captain Grief's reliability and the fact the man could keep quiet about the request. 

"No one wants a panic." Lieutenant Morlais assured, "It is nothing to worry about but the moment someone hears the word "epidemic" they immediately think it's a dangerous situation. Not true. But they don't want it to get out of hand either." 

Unfortunately, the keepers of _The Rattler *_were* on vacation. Isabelle had come to Grief one morning as he worked on his motorcycle, telling him it was a simple contract and they could make good money … with extras included if he was a good boy. 

After a moment of thought Grief declined. 

Maybe it was the way Isabelle's voice had dropped a notch and, with that alluring smile that upturned her full lips when she said the word "extras", how her eyes held a seductive promise. Or perhaps it was even the fetching scent of flora she wore that morning, along with a brightly colored spring dress that accented her lovely figure. Whatever the case, he didn't want to go - especially knowing she would be his very tempting first mate. Things could get out of hand as always seemed to happen when the two of them were alone together. 

However, instead of facing insecurities, Grief simply refused and - after a brief argument - told Isabelle if she wanted the contract so much she should go on her own. She was half owner of _The Rattler_, after all. Grief never believed she would actually do it. Isabelle had quickly assembled a crew and sailed at sun up the following day, never informing either of her partners what she was doing. Isabelle had simply left a message with Colin saying she would be back in a week.

Once the medical supplies were delivered to Poltagra, members of _The Royal Navy_, who were already stationed on the island, were going to take over. Again, a very simple delivery and easy money for the shipper. There were precautions, of course, because of possible contagion but, all in all, it was contained to the island and anyone with a hardy immune system had no need of worry. Through a letter, Isabelle was told a small quarantine had been placed then lifted a few days later. 

The truth was not known until Isabelle stepped foot off _The Rattler _onto the island, with her small crew unloading the supplies. No one was there to greet them so she looked about, finally finding an small hut-office with no one inside. Not long after she heard a terrified shout from one of her men, somewhere in the jungle. Isabelle ran with the ship's navigator to where the cry came from and once they reached their destination she could only stare, in stark horror, at the sight before them. Men, women and children, some from _The Royal Navy_, all lay dead in a small village, their bodies riddled with red spots.

A deadly plague had struck Paltogra.

Isabelle and her crew raced back to the beach and _The Rattler _then sailed to the nearest port. They stayed on the ship, calling out to officials and eventually to medical personnel, explaining the situation. Eventually, the crew were all quarantined and _The Rattler _was cleaned and disinfected. Isabelle stayed in the island hospital for over a week before she was diagnosed as "plague free". She had managed to get a cable out to Captain Grief and Mauriri during this time and they picked up their ship. However, they were never allowed to see her and, in a way, Isabelle was happy about that. She could almost hear David's shouts, how she could possibly put his precious ship in such jeopardy, and she really wasn't ready to face him too soon.

Once released Isabelle immediately sailed for Matazangi to spend a few days with William and Alea. Isabelle did not know she was infected until a day after her arrival the dreaded red spots broke out on her chest and her temperature started to run hot. She traveled immediately to the island doctor who quickly contacted _The Board of Health _to report her fears. As before, Isabelle was quarantined, as were William and Alea who - thankfully - never shown symptoms of the disease. It was later learned a few of Isabelle's crew had succumbed as well.

Grief sighed, recalling his conversation at Lavinia's with William Reed.

"We had to wait for the medicine to get to her." Reed had said over his whisky, "Ironic, isn't it? All that vaccine she had carried to Paltogra and now, when she was in need, there was none to be found." Reed continued solemnly, "I was immune so I spent time with Isabelle, by her bedside, and we talked. She told me of all your adventures, Captain Grief. She was so proud and happy that she could be a part of them. She said becoming your friend was the wisest thing she had ever done. You are one of the bravest men she ever knew." He then smiled very mildly, "Isabelle genuinely cared for you, Captain. I think one day she might have even fancied you as a lover," he softly chuckled at David's silence, "but she knew you would always be married to the sea."

Grief chose to disregard the last comment. No one would ever know just how close to becoming lovers he and Isabelle had been over the last couple of years. "Did she suffer?" he asked, not wanting to know but feeling it important for his own peace of mind.

"Not at first." William Reed looked away then back to Grief, "But eventually … yes. Later she slept a lot. I heard her cry for our parents and also for you … Then, by the end, when she was still conscious, she asked for paper and pen and for me to get you the Napoleon brandy. Isabelle said you should have a drink and think of her, of the good times you two had together, and not to mourn for long. She said there was too much work to be done. Isabelle _did_ ask that you find a good home for Dante and sell the stable ..."

The auction was this morning. Isabelle had it in her will that all money made was to be split between William Reed and Colin, for the church, and the last quarter given to "my big brother", Mauriri for his children's education.

****

"It's late, David. Do you want to come in?" Mauriri asked, standing. "Lianni has a bed prepared for you."

"Yeah," Grief nodded slowly. "I'll come in after a few more minutes." he promised. "Thanks Mauriri." he added.

"For what?"

"For allowing me to get drunk and not being judgmental about it."

"After the day you've had you're entitled." Mauriri reached down and shook his friend's hand, "I'm your best friend. You can call on me night or day. You know that." 

"I know that." Grief repeated in confirmation, "Goodnight, my friend."

He watched the muscular Polynesian turn about and walk to his home.

A low whinny was heard from the other side of the house. He could not find anyone suitable for Isabelle's Dante so he kept the horse for himself. "Only temporarily." he assured the gelding, rubbing him down this afternoon, "Because I'm just not a one horse man." He recalled Dante making a trilling noise, as if he understood.

Alone, taking a deep breath of sea air, Grief remembered something and fished into his pants pocket, pulling out the small half sheet of paper with the barely legible hand writing. Well into her sickness, when she knew there was no hope of recovery, Isabelle had written him a note. William Reed pushed it into Grief's hand when he gave him the brandy, just before stepping foot onto the ship which took him home.

In the moonlight Grief could barely read what was written but he didn't really have to. He'd read it so many times already …

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Sweet David,

I owe you so much. Thank you for giving me back my life and making me care.

Wherever it is I am destined to go I'll leave a candle lit. No doubt we will be headed in the same direction, Captain. 

Meanwhile, live life to the fullest, as I know you can, but once in awhile try to remember that poor lost soul you once saw in chains; that wayward woman you thought important enough to rescue.

Drink this brandy and remember me, David. As I will always remember you.

Adieu,

Isabelle

Slowly and very thoughtfully, Captain Grief pushed the note back into his pocket then lifted the brandy bottle upward, allowing the moonlight to reflect through the darkened glass, revealing only a paltry ounce or two of the liquid.

Pensively, he opened his mouth, tilting the bottle, allowing the remaining brandy to fall onto his tongue. Afterward, when there was not another drop to be consumed, he dug a small but deep hole with his hands, placing the bottle in it, and pushed the sand to cover the bottle completely. Patting his secret, smiling at a memory, Grief again looked up at the moon … imagining her lovely face looking down at him. "Adieu, sweet Isabelle." he said to the image, "Wait for me … and we will take _The Rattler _on adventures you have never experianced …." The smile slid very slowly from his face as the image disappeared. 

With a little effort, Captain Grief got shakily to his feet, taking a last look at the moon, and walked to the hut-home and a warm bed that was anticipating him.

The waves of the ocean crashed on the beach behind him and, as he walked, Grief thought he could hear a feminine voice whisper, "I will wait, David." 

He was pleased.

THE END

April 2003

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((Yes, a little depressing but I had this one kicking its way through my head for a couple months and thought it was about time to let it free. Next one will be more fun. I promise. Best, Beckers))


End file.
